Break them
by Misila
Summary: Something like this was bound to happen since the first time Q told him with an angelic smile how he had cursed a tourist at the beach; Mori only regretted it had happened so soon. There were so many plans he could have used Q for.


_**Break them**_

.

"I'm tired of being here!"

Q's loud whine made Dazai look up in curiosity; he had to blink several times to get rid of the letters distorting his sight, engraved on the back of his eyelids from staring at them for the last ten minutes.

He hadn't noticed the child standing up from his spot next to him, hadn't heard his steps towards their mentor's desk; only when Q stomped his small foot on the floor, right before Mori, Dazai took in the situation. He kept silent, though, without even breathing; he could almost smell his mentor's malice in the small smile curling his lips.

"You will get out when you are ready," Mori simply said.

Dazai didn't particularly like Q, but he knew the child wasn't stupid. He almost sympathised with him when Q gave two small steps back; if there was anything worse than snapping at Mori, it was showing weakness right after antagonising him. He had never hesitated to punish his protégés on the rare occasions they stepped out of line; Q's age was hardly an impediment.

"And when will that be?" Q replied, his high-pitched voice trembling with fake bravado. It took a lot of self-control for Dazai not to raise an eyebrow in honest surprise; he couldn't tell whether he felt more admiration or pity for him. "I'm always inside! I want to go out!"

Dazai's eyes trailed down to his book again. Q had already gotten in trouble and he neither wanted to nor could help him after talking like that to Mori.

Yet at the same time… he understood the child. Their mentor was very careful about letting Q out, where he could use his ability on unsuspecting victims; it had happened several times, and had Dazai not been there to get rid of the curse the three of them would have gotten into trouble with the Boss, whose methods grew more violent and merciless with each passing day. Q couldn't be trusted when he cursed people at random just for fun, which had resulted on the child never being alone and hardly ever being allowed outside, the only fresh air that bathed his fair skin blowing through open windows.

"Maybe after you finish reading." Mori pointed at the book, way thinner than the one resting on Dazai's thighs, which Q had thrown to the carpeted floor of the small office. "Then I'll let you have a walk with Dazai-kun."

Q narrowed his mismatched eyes. "I don't want to go with him," he declared. "I'm leaving."

"Oh?" Dazai heard Mori's smile grow, couldn't resist raise his head despite the shudder running down his spine. "I wonder how, when everyone here has been told to stop you."

Q turned around, stomped his feet towards the door. "Then I'll break them. I'll break everyone until nobody can stop me."

Mori didn't move in the slightest when Q opened the wooden door, walked out and slammed it shut. Neither did Dazai, even when Chuuya's annoyed exclamation at the child filtered through the wall.

"Dazai-kun, all his dolls were destroyed, I believe."

Dazai nodded just as three knocks on the door preceded Chuuya and some reports from Kouyou, tried to focus again on his read with an irritated frown between his eyebrows.

.

Chuuya's steps were light and elegant, silent like a cat's.

Kouyou was often surprised at how easily his ability came to him; for Chuuya, manipulating the gravity of his own body had been instinctive ever since the first time she had seen him.

He could have snuck into their home without her noticing easily; actually, Kouyou knew the nights he crept outside the building to get back in through the window of his bedroom just before the time she usually woke him weren't an exception, even though she wouldn't comment on it as long as he came back to fulfil his duties and train, as long as no light mudded his crystalline eyes.

But Chuuya was fourteen and exquisitely polite, so he knocked even though the door was open, took his hat off as he stepped inside.

"Big sis Kouyou," he greeted as he walked into the living room, handing a stack of papers to her.

"Is this…?"

"Mori-san agreed to make the changes you suggested and give the reports to the Boss. He didn't bother to read them," Chuuya added before Kouyou could ask the question that was obvious in her gaze, his voice almost a grunt.

The Executive's behaviour had carved a deep, offended frown between the boy's eyes that made Kouyou smile despite Mori's insolence as she grabbed the papers.

"I swear I'll cut his tongue off one of these days…" she muttered, carefully placing the reports on the table. "Now, don't you have anything to do, Chuuya?"

Chuuya let out one last irritated huff, but he answered anyway. "I'll be training with Hirotsu-san's friend until late."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." With a nod, Chuuya put his hat back on before turning around and headed to the door. "Chuuya…"

The boy stopped and whipped his head around.

"What?"

Kouyou narrowed her eyes at her protégé's bare forearm.

 _I'd swear I just saw…_

She shook his head and smiled. "Nothing. Take care, dear."

As soon as Chuuya was outside, though, all trace of fondness vanished from her face. With Mori in charge of the reports, she could have left for Osaka without worrying about them; but that neglectful man had refused to read between the lines and now Kouyou was forced to revise the documents before departing.

A quick glance to the clock told her she had two hours.

She repeated the threat she had uttered in Chuuya's presence, now adorned with some improper words as she walked towards her computer. She almost finished packing the few things she would take with her in the time it took for the device to turn on, ordered _Golden Demon_ to do what was left in her stead when she was able to start working.

Not even five minutes into her task, though, her phone distracted her from fixing the reports.

"Is something wrong?" she asked her direct subordinate as she brought the device to her ear.

"K-Kouyou-san…" The man on the other side of the line sounded strangely hesitant. "It's… Some of the lowest ranking guards––"

Kouyou frowned at the heavy blow that interrupted the explanation, followed by a dense silence. "Mishima-kun?"

A trembling breathing reached her.

"Our men, they are…" Mishima swallowed down. "They're attacking each other."

.

Mori shook his head as he shoved his phone back into the pocket of his lab coat, leaning on the wall as the lift carried him to the highest floor, far from the scuffles his unfortunate colleagues were causing.

He knew what the Boss wanted. Of course he knew.

Yet he pretended to be surprised by the news; as he stood in front of the man whose sanity kept vanishing with each passing day, he nodded, looked at the floor, assured him he would get rid of Q once and for all.

A crazy child was too dangerous to use regularly, after all. Something like this was bound to happen since the first time Q told him with an angelic smile how he had cursed a tourist at the beach; Mori only regretted it had happened so soon.

There were so many plans he could have used Q for.

He reached for his phone again as soon as he stepped outside the Boss' office.

"Dazai-kun," he muttered when the boy picked up. "It's happening."

"I know," Dazai replied. "I'm already looking for it."

Mori smiled despite himself. "Good."

Dazai was a little too clever for his liking.

.

The Mafia used an empty industrial unit close to the harbour to train its members. Not only for them to learn to hold guns properly and improve their aim; close combat skills were taught there too, including different martial arts, self-defence and bladed weapons use.

It had been one of Chuuya's favourite places ever since joining the Mafia. Not only was he so naturally good at it that he surpassed more experienced fighters at an astonishing speed; he appreciated and respected every man and woman he fought against, regardless of the outcome, and he enjoyed their company and advice as well.

But that day something different happened.

Goosebumps raised on the nape of Chuuya's neck when the door closest to him opened, even before he turned around to face the stranger. He stepped back on reflex, eyes widening as he grabbed the bottle of water he had been drinking from tighter.

 _He's here_.

He swallowed down as the man looked around to inspect the place; those eyes –pale blue, narrowed down to slits– landed on Chuuya for a moment, widening the tiniest bit in–– _recognition_.

And the boy forgot how to breathe.

 _He's back_.

The echo of long, sleepless nights scattered with violence and fear echoed in his eardrums, louder with each beat of his heart. Yells and blows and the stench of alcohol froze Chuuya's lungs, bottle slipping from between his hands and spilling its content on his shoes and the floor.

 _He found me_.

Chuuya thought–– he had always believed he had broken free from _him_ , from his hell, when he had run away from a slippery red floor with his nose intoxicated in iron and fear–– that _he_ would never be able to drag him back to the abyss he had climbed out of with bleeding hands.

He had been wrong.

And _he_ was wrong too, if he had the idea Chuuya would succumb without a fight. Chuuya was no longer a crying child scared of an ability he couldn't control, he was stronger than the kid that would run across the ceiling and disappear for days only to fall back into a hell that greeted him with beatings and insults.

Chuuya was running towards the newcomer before having consciously decided it. He had to act quickly, before _he_ hurt any of his colleagues.

Chuuya paid no mind to the surprised voices repeating his name. As he sunk his fist into the man's stomach, infusing as much strength as his ability let him, he regretted not being able to explain them–– but there would be plenty of time later, he told himself as he fell straddling that sickening body, landing punch after punch on _his_ face.

He was _protecting_ them. Even if they didn't understand it themselves.

He would keep them safe. He would burn _him_ down, because now _he_ wasn't the only one preventing Chuuya from being alone. He was but a cowardly bastard, he had always been. They would know––

"Chuuya-kun, stop it!"

"Let me go!" Chuuya howled, twisting in the arms pulling him back from _him_ as red curls bounced against his cheeks "He'll take me back!"

He fell on his hands and knees when Hirotsu threw him on the floor, glared up at the man with bared teeth.

"What are you doing?" Hirotsu reprimanded. "Attacking my dear friend––"

"He's not your friend!" Chuuya almost yelled, barely aware of the many gazes fixed on him. "Hirotsu-san, he's–– He's––"

Unable to utter the word, as if it were a curse and pronouncing it would awaken the Devil himself, Chuuya launched himself against that–– that _monster_ pathetically trying to sit up. This time he had the upper hand; all he had to do was––

White pain shot through his left arm when Hirotsu extended his palm to touch Chuuya's shoulder; he was sent flying backwards until he hit a pillar. Chuuya slid down until he fell on the floor, unable to breathe for some seconds. When he forced his lungs to work again, he was barely aware of the warm, thick fluid trickling down his neck–– he felt, on the other hand, the fire raging inside his unresponsive arm as he stumbled to stand up.

He gritted his teeth as he saw Hirotsu's blurry figure approaching, his hand glowing violet.

"I'm sorry, Chuuya-kun," the man apologised; through his dizziness Chuuya thought he sounded sincere. "But you aren't in your right mind right now."

Chuuya's gaze followed the direction Hirotsu's finger pointed at, frowning at a handprint around his left wrist, half-covered by a black glove.

"So what?" he hissed. "That man… He's my––"

He started running before finishing the sentence, too fast for Hirotsu to react, bending gravity to propel him through the huge warehouse, between alarmed people.

Three feet landed on his chest at once, with enough force to stop him. Chuuya fell on his knees, coughing as he brought his uninjured hand to the point of the impact.

 _Is that so?_

They wanted to stop him– even though all Chuuya wanted was to protect them, those fools were trying to shelter _him_ from the harm he deserved tenfold.

 _They think they can stop me_.

Chuuya's chuckle resounded through the place, silent like death as he stood up once again. "Do you think," he barked out, "do you _really_ think a couple of kicks and that unrefined ability can beat gravity?"

"Chuuya-kun––" Hirotsu called after him from behind, but now fear was evident in his voice.

The words came easily to his lips, eyes full of hatred as they fixed on the _monster_ , absolute power flowing through his veins. Drunk in that strength borrowed from the Earth itself, Chuuya watched as black rivulets carved their way across his pale skin, curling like the demented smirk twisting his lips.

And then he drowned in darkness.

.

It seemed they hadn't gotten rid of _all_ the dolls, after all. Dazai found the culprit of cursing his colleagues in the Mafia's private bar on the ground floor.

He was nearly shot twice and was lucky enough a stray knife only scrapped his cheek; around that place there were more people affected by Q's curse, and even though most of them couldn't do anything other than bleeding out on the floor there were still a handful of them trying to shoot to death every living being they laid their eyes on.

Dazai grunted when the doll vanished by his mere touch, raised a hand to wipe out the trail of blood sliding down to his chin.

Immediately the screams and shots ceased; he cautiously peeked out of the door, saw the few people still alive look around in confusion as sanity seeped back into their minds.

It made sense. Q had put the most effort in guarding the place he had hidden his doll.

Most survivors were hurt, but the ones who could still stand were slowly approaching the ones who were more seriously injured; Dazai didn't think they needed his help, so he fished his phone out of his pocket to call Mori as he zigzagged between corpses so as not to step on them.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, though, when he saw his mentor was the one calling him.

"I destroyed the doll," he informed upon picking up. "It was in the bar."

"Well done," Mori's voice, as sickeningly sweet as ever, praised him through the speaker. "But I'm afraid we still need your ability once more today, Dazai-kun."

Dazai frowned. "Is there another doll?"

There was a pause.

"No. One of the cursed ones is your friend, Chuuya-kun. According to Hirotsu-san, he has caused over forty casualties already."

Brown eyes widened, jaw going slack in shock. He hung up as he dashed towards the exit, his skin so pale it rivalled the bandages around his neck, not even making a note to tell Mori Chuuya was _not_ his friend.

He didn't need his mentor to tell him where Chuuya was. In the warehouse he liked spending the whole day kicking and punching like an automatic machine in, as always.

Dazai didn't need anyone to tell him why he had to rush, either.

The industrial unit wasn't far from the main headquarters, and once Dazai made it outside he confirmed he wouldn't have been able to miss it even if he tried; nearly black smoke rose from the spot into the sky, attracting curious glances and causing a traffic jam Dazai would have been annoyed about had it not let him get there faster.

Once he arrived, though, he almost stopped breathing, despite how his exerted lungs ached for air.

There was _no_ industrial unit. Only a few pillars kept standing, pieces of ceiling crumbled down; but what was more worrying was what Dazai couldn't see, what had been completely erased from the world– the ones who had disappeared due to Chuuya's madness.

And in the centre of it all stood a figure enveloped in darkness, hands sunk into spheres of nothing as an unearthly laughter resounded across the disaster, cut off by the blood dripping from the corners of bruised lips.

Dazai tried to guess how long Chuuya had been in that state for. More than five minutes, that was for sure; but probably not much longer–– or at least that was what he wanted to believe. He approached Chuuya slowly, one step at a time, not wanting to be noticed.

 _Don't turn around_ , he repeated in his mind, over and over again. _Just stay there, behave yourself and don't look my way…_

He didn't bother to speak those words aloud. He knew Chuuya was too far caged inside that _thing_ to hear them.

Dazai almost didn't dare breathe when he found himself less than two metres away from Chuuya. He raised his arm, took one last step forward––

Chuuya turned his head towards him. Empty eyes fixed on him, not a hint of recognition shining in them; Dazai didn't know what looked at him from that heartless gaze, but he had never liked staring at him for too long.

So he covered the distance separating them, curled his fingers around Chuuya's blackened wrist.

"Did that hallucination make you want to commit suicide or what?" he huffed out, but Chuuya collapsed on him before he could add anything else.

Without _Corruption_ , his own strength was not enough to keep him upright; he fell like a puppet abandoned by its master, coughing up blood as Dazai get him off and laid him on his side. Without that darkness clinging to him, the bruises marring his fair skin were painfully evident.

Dazai breathed out a sigh, but there was no relief in the sound. Still kneeling next to Chuuya's unconscious body, he took his phone out once again and searched through his contacts.

"Big sis Kouyou?"

"Dazai, what do you want?" She sounded tired and more irritated than usual when it came to Dazai, which probably meant she had had to deal with her share of cursed colleagues too.

"Chuuya used _Corruption_ under Q's influence."

A tense silence went on for almost half a minute. Kouyou's voice trembled when she spoke again:

"Take him to the infirmary– I'll be there in a second."

.

Being injured was no excuse to miss work, in Hirotsu's opinion. Especially in times like this, when more than one hundred colleagues had perished at the hands of a six year-old. There were reports to make, people to bury, families to notify.

It was the most unpleasant task of them all, Hirotsu thought.

Yet he had personally volunteered to talk to the relatives of all the people who had lost their lives at the industrial unit. He might not have killed them personally –and he couldn't blame a child for succumbing to his demons–, but not having been able to subside Chuuya felt like a personal failure.

Despite it all, Hirotsu felt lucky just for being alive. A beam had fallen on his right leg and broken it; which, in hindsight, was what had saved him by incapacitating him to help his colleagues to escape their fate.

He sighed as he limped into the infirmary, helped by his crutches. Unlike the past days, he wasn't there to visit his subordinates; yet he greeted the ones that were awake as he walked past them, approached the patient who occupied the bed closest to the window.

Hirotsu stared at the sleeping boy laying on that mattress, hidden from the rest of the patients behind a curtain.

It had been four days since Q's attack, but Chuuya hadn't awakened yet. The skin that wasn't covered in bandages and casts was starting to regain its fair colour under the bruises, and he seemed able to breathe without trouble now; it was only a matter of time before he regained consciousness.

Hirotsu found it strange, how such a frail child could become a monster enslaved by his ability, how he completely lost himself to that inhumane power. He had known Chuuya for years, had heard about what he had seen him do four days ago, but remembering it still gave him chills.

"Do you think he'll wake up soon?"

Hirotsu glanced away from Chuuya. The chair Dazai was sitting on stood on two legs, his feet leaning on the edge of the bed to help him to keep his balance. He had his arms crossed under his head and stared at the ceiling with a bored expression.

"Dazai-kun, I believe you shouldn't be here."

Dazai groaned. "Too much work. I'm slacking off," he admitted. "I thought Chuuya would be awake by now, but teasing him like this is not fun."

Hirotsu couldn't supress a smile.

"In any case, Mori-san is looking for you." The name caught Dazai's attention. "Even though you nullified the curse, you haven't found Q yet, have you?"

Dazai bended his knees, let his chair land on its four legs. His hands fell on his lap.

"I wouldn't want to be Q," he muttered, staring at the white sheets, closing his hands into fists. "They won't forgive him."

 _You won't, either_. Hirotsu didn't remember the names of all the mortal victims, but it was more than likely Dazai also knew some of them.

The boy stood up before Hirotsu could find a way to voice that thought, though. He didn't look eager to please Mori; but only extremely masochistic people would want to displease the Executive. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time until he took over the Boss.

"…an."

Hirotsu frowned at the feeble voice, his gaze falling on disoriented blue eyes.

"Hirotsu-san?" Chuuya repeated, voice hoarse after not using it for days.

" _Now_ that I have to leave you wake up?" Dazai complained; Chuuya managed to fix an instinctively annoyed glare on him.

"Get out," he snapped.

"I'm leaving," Dazai announced, walking away upright as if it had been his choice and Chuuya hadn't just told him to leave. "Good afternoon, Hirotsu-san, Chuuya."

Hirotsu smiled again as Chuuya's gaze followed Dazai's retreating form with a frown between his eyebrows. They sure were an entertaining pair.

"What happened?" Chuuya mumbled when Dazai disappeared from his sight. He tried to move, most likely to sit up, but he only managed to raise his head a bit; it fell on the pillow again as a pained gasp left his lips. That inquiring gaze never abandoned Hirotsu's eyes, though.

"Q cursed you," he simply answered; Chuuya's eyes widened. Hirotsu pressed his lips in a thin line, though, unsure about telling him the rest of the story. "I should call a doctor to check on you."

"Did I…" Chuuya trailed off, breathed in, started again. He was visibly shaking; Hirotsu wondered how much of the disaster he remembered. "What did I do?" he eventually asked in a small voice.

It was strange. Hirotsu had killed many people in the years he had been in the Mafia, and he had hesitated very few times. No matter how cruel or heartless the job was, he rarely had qualms about it. It might be unpleasant, but somebody had to do it.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell that scared child how many people he had wiped out unintentionally.

"I am glad you are awake," was what Hirotsu finally said. It wasn't a lie. "Now wait here."

He ignored Chuuya's faint complaints as he walked away with the excuse of telling someone the boy had woken up. Hirotsu almost proffered a mirthless laughter.

He would have never thought that taking a life would be easier than breaking a child's heart.

.

Even though his back was turned towards them, Q's hair was unmistakable.

He was sitting on a bench with his legs pulled up, looking at the sea. As Mori walked closer, Dazai trailing by his side, he noticed the slight tremor shaking the child's shoulders. He didn't stop, though; only when he was right next to him Mori sat down next to his protégé.

"Isn't the sea beautiful, Mori-san?" Q muttered, not taking his unsettling eyes off the sight. The setting sun reflected into his dark irises, illuminated a charming smile.

Mori smiled.

"Is it worth giving up your freedom?"

Q raised his eyebrows, sincerely surprised by that phrasing. "What freedom, Mori-san?"

"The Boss will lock you up," Dazai intervened. He stood on Q's other side, hands shoved in his pockets and brown eyes fixed on the sea. "You killed over one hundred people."

Q frowned in confusion.

"But wasn't Chuuya-san the one who made most of them disappear? Why doesn't the Boss punish him too, Dazai-san?"

"Whether Chuuya-kun has to pay for his crimes or not is irrelevant now," Mori dictated, standing up. "I really hope you enjoyed these days. Will you behave now?"

Q looked down, tears gathering in his eyes. "I hate you," he muttered.

Yet he stood up, grabbed Dazai's hand and followed Mori obediently, not even trying to supress his silent crying as the three of them walked back towards the Port Mafia headquarters.

Not even once did he look back towards the sea.

.

The burning in his chest had little to do with his internal injuries.

Fist clenched as much as the drugs he had been given allowed, Chuuya had his head turned towards the window, glared at Yokohama's illuminated night, refusing to acknowledge Kouyou's presence. She had long since given up on talking to him, though, and had made herself comfortable on a chair to read a book whose title Chuuya wasn't interested in.

Apparently, telling him what he had done would upset him and Chuuya needed to rest as much as he could.

He didn't agree. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get anything clear from his foggy memories; he had tried to make some sense of them so many times reality and his guilty imagination were starting to merge, and he was even more confused than right after awakening to Hirotsu's concern and Dazai's idiocy.

Nothing could be worse than not knowing.

Chuuya turned his head towards the sound of steps slowly approaching, even though he supposed it would be a doctor of a nurse that wanted to check on him once again. A grunt made its way to his lips, though, when Dazai entered his field of vision.

"My dear friend!" he exclaimed in exaggerated delight, hopping the last metres left to the bed. "How do you feel, Chuuya? Well enough to entertain me, I hope."

Chuuya narrowed his eyes, bit his tongue to stop the swearing from coming out between his lips. Not with Kouyou there.

"Don't you have anything else to do? Like, say, jumping off from the Boss' office?"

Dazai made a face. "That sounds painful. Besides, what if Q curses you again and I'm not around to stop your secret suicidal tendencies, _Hyde_?"

Disgust curled a murky fist around Chuuya's stomach. Well, of _course_ Dazai had had to intervene at some point, since he was still alive. He hated owing people anything; and he _loathed_ how much he owed Dazai.

But a spark lit up within him. Dazai _knew_.

"Hey, did I hurt anyone back there?"

Kouyou, who had completely ignored the exchange since Dazai arrived, closed her book and fixed a glare on Mori's protégé.

"We've talked about this, Chuuya. It won't do you any good right now."

"Stop treating me like a child!" Chuuya exclaimed, frustrated. "What is so bad that you don't want to tell me?"

"Chuuya––"

Dazai's gaze trailed behind the two people in front of him in mild interest.

"How are the people I hurt? Worse than me? Will they recover?"

"Fifty nine."

The voice was but a whisper; Chuuya would have missed it had he not seen Dazai's lips shape the sound. His eyes widened.

"Fif–– did I hurt that many?" Something cold settled in his stomach when Dazai didn't meet his eyes. "Answer me," he demanded.

"You didn't hurt them," Dazai muttered, impervious to Kouyou's glare. "You killed fifty nine people."

For a second, Chuuya's lungs forgot how to keep breathing.

 _Fifty nine people_.

"N-No––" he stuttered out, shaking his head.

Air burnt his insides when Chuuya managed to take it in again, shock washing over him like a wave swallowing his whole body. He tried to sit up, to reach for Dazai's stupid tie and shake him until he admitted it was a joke, but he could barely move.

"At least," Dazai added, even more quietly. "It's hard to tell, since most corpses are gone; we have to rely mostly on witnesses. You wiped out the entire––"

"Enough." Kouyou's voice cut through the air like a whip as she put her book aside and stood up. "Dazai, _out_ ," she ordered through gritted teeth.

Chuuya didn't hear Dazai's steps fading away. The number repeated itself over and over again in his mind, a cursed prayer that reminded him what he had done, what he had caused for not being strong enough to discern hallucinations and reality. His heart beat so loudly in his throat he felt nauseous, unable to perceive any outer stimulus until Kouyou's soft hand brushed his cheek.

"Big sis…" Chuuya started, eyes wide open yet not seeing her. "I–I didn't want… I just…"

"It wasn't your fault," came her soft voice. "That disgusting child manipulated you; there is nothing you could have done."

"Fifty nine," Chuuya said aloud, eyes clouding over with tears and a remorse that was useless. "I'm– I'm so sorry."

"I know, dear."

Kouyou's fingers threaded through dishevelled red locks as she kept whispering soothing words in response to Chuuya's incoherent apologies. The tremors shaking Chuuya's body didn't subdue, but Kouyou's touch was warm and he despised himself for finding comfort in her sole presence.

Despite his exhaustion and his injuries, Chuuya's eyes were wide like an owl's when sunlight filtered through the window; Kouyou had fallen asleep with her fingers intertwined with his, but Chuuya could barely feel her soft touch at that point.

 _Fifty nine_ had kept hammering into his skull throughout the whole night, and it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.

It was the first real achievement for the monster Chuuya desperately tried to suffocate, and he doubted it would be the last one.

* * *

 _Author's notes_ : I've been thinking for some time about the posibility of Q causing so much damage before being sealed through other people's abilities- and Chuuya is a walking disaster when using Corruption (and there are other details that fit easily in this headcanon), so.


End file.
